


In Sin, my Sanctuary

by zanka



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-20
Updated: 2014-09-20
Packaged: 2018-02-18 03:40:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2333930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zanka/pseuds/zanka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically follows Sinbad no Bouken (Chapter 27) when Sinbad saves Ja'far from falling into depravity. Ja'far starts to have feelings again after denying them due to his need for detachment in order to assassinate, but slightly unusual ones for his beloved king-to-be. And so of course, he doesn't know that these feelings are "unusual". Lots of time skips happen and in-between details may be left out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Sin, my Sanctuary

**Author's Note:**

> Hello guys! This is my second fanfic ever and first Sinja fic. If you spot any errors, especially grammatically, please let me know. Enjoy!

The light had been blinding.

Just several moments before, there had been an intrusion - an outright breach of personal right. The madman whom Ja'far was supposed to assassinate somehow penetrated the depths of his past, and for the briefest of moments, Ja'far too managed a rare glimpse of the child he once used to be - helpless, weak and above all, feeling.

The pain was utterly unbearable and his head was spinning madly out of control by its own power, and he could not recall for the life of him when the very last time he could feel had been. The sensation of emotion at its core was incredibly overwhelming, awfully akin to that of a newborn experiencing for the very first time.

Ja'far's chest heaved sporadically with the sobs that wrecked through it. Of course, he had finally accomplished the inevitable. 

He had killed his parents with his own two hands.

"So this is who you really are," the same goddamn bastard who had unceremoniously taken it upon himself to break his way into Ja'far's past whispered gently, leaning towards him. Sinbad's breath tickled the young boy's pale skin and the bandages that surrounded it. Ja'far suppressed a shudder.

For a moment, all was still as he stared up into an earnest, unwavering sea of hazel.  

As a cool breeze swept by suddenly, Ja'far instantly snapped as if he had been in a trance of some kind.

What was this offending proximity - with an enemy no less? _I'll annihilate him at once!_

He immediately reached for his darts with a final charged attempt to pierce the offender's flesh, insisting to himself, _I will not fail this time_. 

"Ja'far, if you don't have a home, I'll give you one." With that remarkably grandiose statement, the madman extended his hand to him in offering.

Ja'far frowned at him uncomprehendingly. A...home? His attempt with the darts abruptly faltered and once again he was stunned into silence. What was wrong with this man? No, he was not a man, but a boy. He may have been older and taller than Ja'far but there was no way that someone who could still smile so brilliantly could ever have experienced great turmoil in his life before.

Ja'far could not be more pleased to take the life of such an arrogant, unworthy bastard; after all, a life that has not known the grievances that it has to offer is hardly a life worth sparing, is it not?

A part of him scoffed at the ludicrous proposal. A home? _What does he think I am? A mere puppy to be bred?_

Before the words could leave his lips with the intended menace, Sinbad grabbed his shoulders with renewed assurance and continued, "I'll become your way of life, so please don't lie to yourself anymore."

As the words finally sank into Ja'far's understanding, a small light broke Ja'far's field of vision; however, he could not pinpoint exactly where from. The entire situation just kept getting more and more perplexing by the second, really.

Ja'far looked down at himself, caught off-guard at a feeling he realised was stirring about uneasily in his chest. What was this sudden...yearning? His mind scrambled for purchase. _Don't tell me this terrifying budding emotion could actually be..._

_...one of fragile hope?_

Everything was becoming so laughable and absurd. He, Ja'far, who kills without relent, is suddenly of hope and feeling? Downright preposterous.

"Become my subordinate!"

At an alarming rate, the light swelled and filled the room. The brightness's profusely increasing intensity refused to cease and never once betrayed a single intention of coming to a halt. Ja'far braced himself as it began to engulf him, forcibly pulling him into itself as if the direction of gravity had been spontaneously altered.

Finally, he was swallowed whole by the blinding nothingness, though the burn in his head dulled to a negligible throbbing just as his body hit the ground.

"I will not forgive you if you die! Didn't you want to be my subordinate?!" Sinbad's voice rang all too clearly in the boy's ears, but he could neither see nor move, simply lying there like a limp doll. He was so confused, unable to decipher if it was his head or heart pounding so madly. Why was only Sinbad's voice permeating the air - where was everything else?

Sinbad's voice softened as he murmured, "Then you should be able to take a little bit of shock."

Without warning, Ja'far's whole body was set on fire.

_Wait, this is not fire at all_ , he realised, for a pure, unadulterated shock of pain abruptly reverberated right through his body all the way up to his skull and he heard it rattle precariously inside his head. He howled in despair, trying to claw at his brain desperately as if it would put an end to the pain, but he could feel nothing but the electricity that coursed adamantly through his veins. 

_What the fuck's happening to me?!_

"Brat! No!" yelled Sinbad in frustration. In sheer irritation, Ja'far tried to retort that he was being fucking _electrocuted_ ,and getting practically stabbed by some electrified sword that only someone as unhinged as Sinbad could possibly possess - because even amidst all this senseless pandemonium, Ja'far still managed to feel indignant over being yelled at.

_How is any of this even under my control? No one suddenly just decides to send volts of electricity through someone else's body and proceeds to call him a brat for feeling pain! Even I know that!_

_What a fucking asshole._

"DON'T YOU DIE ON ME, JA'FAR!"

Ja'far's indignation abruptly paused as the implication of Sinbad's words sank in.

_...Die on him?_

Before Ja'far could think any harder, the bright light that had been previously surrounding him somehow became even more blindingly so than before. Every nerve ending in his body simultaneously sprang to life just as his vision became entirely colonised by a white-hot explosion.

He screamed again as everything went black without warning.

Everything was silent and Ja'far's senses were void at long last. The massive switch from jarring blue-white to pitch black was extremely disconcerting.

But suddenly he felt something grip his left wrist, hauling him along desperately.

"Are you still breathing, Ja'far?" Sinbad was panting heavily as he continued to use what little left of his remaining strength there was to pull Ja'far upright. The concern in Sinbad's voice was very foreign to him, yet he couldn't help but notice the way it roused something deep within himself which he couldn't fathom either.

"...Yeah," Ja'far responded breathlessly at last.

A chorus of cheers erupted from the momentarily forgotten crowd while Ja'far's own subordinates steadied him, slightly apprehensive at approaching him without his consent. But Ja'far made no attempt to resist and threaten, which they thus took as consent. Eventually, Ja'far's senses and equilibrium returned.

Immediately after, though, a new voice caught his attention.

"I've decided," it said. "I acknowledge you, Sinbad, as my king vessel," came the final judgement.

Everyone cheered again, except Ja'far, remaining still and silent. Something unusual was definitely taking place inside him. Was it relief, or was it fear? Relief that he was alive, or fear of what this Sinbad guy could actually be capable of with such a power?

To begin with, when have emotions like _those_ started dwelling within him?

He watched Sinbad with seeming indifference as the latter stood tall and honourably before Valefor, and noticed the blood that had caked on his brown skin as well as the scratches he had acquired in their recent battle. 

It took a long while before it dawned on Ja'far that the man had actually painstakingly endured all that for his sake. But truly unsettling beyond all else was really the fact that it was under the outrageous pretext of saving him.

For save him he did, the same fool Ja'far tried to kill over and over again (and still miraculously failed). This man was somehow clearly foolish enough to entirely ignore that fact, and in turn proceeded to risk his own life in order to give the mindless boy a "new home", to use Sinbad's words. Ja'far could not understand his rationale, really.

But perhaps, that was also exactly why the chivalrous lunatic managed to pique his interest.

It was true Sinbad seemed to have a knack for being rather overconfident at times, but in many ways he was also an enigma to Ja'far; a puzzle whose pieces were very much out of place. Apart from the fact that he had an uncanny ability to predict Ja'far next action or even precise movements and thus escape unscathed from all attempts of ambush, he could also easily win the favour of all those around him - every single one of them. It appeared that it never took much beyond a charming smile before countless men and women alike would swoon and be swept under his feet.

Yet Ja'far supposed it would not be fair to say that he would ever come to be an exception himself. In fact, _he_ would be every bit as guilty if not more, and for the most unfortunate reasons. 

He sighed just slightly as his supposed saviour leapt into the air, thoroughly hysteric with joy and his features complete with valiant pride. Perhaps, just perhaps, Ja'far could be permitted to observe this...peculiar hero from a distance. For now.

_My way of life, huh?_

 

\---

Since then, suffice it to say that much has been changing. A lot of Ja'far's behaviour and personality had to be "manually rewired" rather drastically by the claims of many, if he wanted to work closely with the king in the future. But it seems that one thing does not change...

Needless to say, it was very difficult for Ja'far to get adjusted to being treated like he had a say in anything at all. Of course, that was, outside of the calculations his ex-subordinates always had to take in order to dispose of victims. It still came as a mild surprise when people asked for his opinion on things, which Sin (he told Ja'far to address him as such because apparently 'Sinbad' was too formal, even though it was only two syllables) does quite frequently.

Highly unfamiliar, but not necessarily unwelcome feelings would abruptly surge through Ja'far's chest at the smallest of things, such as when Sinbad asks him from time to time if he is doing fine, when Ja'far awakes to him gently dozing by his side, or when he excitedly grabs Ja'far's slightly scarred hands and peers at him with those hazel eyes, alight with bliss for whatever odd reason that he always seems to have.

And so here they are now, on a boat sailing to their next prospect of adventure in the middle of an entire day dedicated to mentally strenuous lessons of reading, writing and basic arithmetic. 

And not to mention, a bazaar of etiquette-related teachings for Ja'far in particular.

As usual, Sinbad has passed out and his collapsed body is currently splayed shamelessly across the floorboards of the front deck. Ja'far finally looks up from his numbers upon hearing a frightening thud. When he sees Sinbad who was clearly sitting upright next to him just seconds ago now suddenly unconscious, Ja'far leans closer in alarm and then realises that he is snoring.

Ja'far chuckles at the sight.

He decides to get up and look for Rurumu, the wife of Sinbad's Imuchakk friend Hinahoho, who was also put in charge of taking care of all of them. Ja'far sees her as a mother, which is difficult for him to make sense of since he has never really had one. But the unusual warmth that imbues Ja'far every time she so lovingly smiles at him never fails to serve as much more than a simple hint that this must be exactly what it is like to have a mother.

"Miss Rurumu?" Ja'far calls.

"Yes, dear?" 

"Do you have a blanket? Sin's out cold again."

At that, she chuckles and it is reminiscent of the wind chimes he managed to hear back at the harbour, Ja'far thinks. "Oh, that boy. He doesn't take studying very well, does he? Here."

Ja'far receives the thin woollen blanket with thanks and makes his way back to Sinbad. 

He snorts at his companion's ungraceful position and sighs, "You look so stupid, Sin."

Laying the blanket over his relatively large resting form, Ja'far sits down beside him and continues to watch the rise and fall of it just above his chest. Ja'far lets his thoughts wander as his eyes trail across the other's countenance.

_He really is quite handsome, isn't he?_ Ja'far muses.

Before he realises what he is doing, Ja'far is reaching over to card his fingers through long violet hair, surprised to find how soft it is for an avid adventurer like Sin. Not rousing from his slumber, Ja'far proceeds to stroke that little bit of hair that always stands upright above Sinbad's head like a horn of some sort. Ja'far giggles in amusement when he tries to pat it down, only to have it spring right back up.

"Your hair's a lot like you, isn't it?" mutters Ja'far. "It just doesn't give up."

His thoughts continue to wander. Sure, much has changed for them indeed, but one thing has also remained constant from the very beginning, even though it wasn't quite so apparent initially...

Sinbad stirs lightly before Ja'far and suddenly turns; the latter freezes, realising that his fingers are still entwined with the purple strands and immediately lets go. Ja'far feels his cheeks burning hotly as he holds his breath, oddly enraptured by the way Sinbad's eyelids lazily unclose to reveal the smouldering hazel irises that Ja'far has come to know so well. 

Upon noticing Ja'far, and probably his furiously blushing cheeks as well, Sinbad smiles. But it is strange, Ja'far thinks, because he notices that it is neither a teasing nor a triumphant smile.

It is simply an innocent, oblivious gesture, as though he is but happy to see him. Something flutters inside Ja'far's chest once again as Sinbad's warm gaze rests on him.

Then it dawns on Ja'far, the one thing that has become a constant in his life:

Sinbad, his supposed king-to-be, has become an undeniable source of happiness to him.

And in him, he has found his sanctuary.


End file.
